


Did That Just Happen?

by RedBubbles



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cadets, Galaxy Garrison, Male pronouns used for Pidge, Naked!Lance, One Shot, Pre-Voltron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 07:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7967215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedBubbles/pseuds/RedBubbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bet leads Lance and Hunk into the Galaxy Garrison corridors late at night. A run-in with Pidge doesn't stop the bet, but it does mean Pidge sees some things he wants to un-see. Can Lance pull the bet off? Probably not</p>
            </blockquote>





	Did That Just Happen?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short thing I wrote because come on, this would so happen.
> 
> (My Tumblr is http://dinosaur-proxy.tumblr.com/ )

“I just want to let you know that I think this is a really bad idea,”  
“I know, you’ve said. Just shut up, you’re going to get us found,”  
“We really shouldn’t be doing this,”  
Lance shoots Hunk a glare as he fists his hands in his shirt, preparing to pull it off.  
Hunk looks back nervously, then grips Lance’s wrist, trying to pull it away.  
“Come on, if we go back now, we can sneak into the kitchen. It’ll all be fine,”  
“Oh, no way,” Lance hisses, wrenching his wrist back and yanking his shirt up over his stomach, “there is no way I’m backing out now,”  
Shadows linger between his ribs as he breathes in deeply, and his skin is eerily pale against the pitch black wall.  
“What are you even trying to prove again?” Hunk asks, looking up and down the corridor, straining his ears to hear for any approaching officers.  
“That I’m not a pussy,” Lance replies, voice muffled by the fabric as it’s caught over his head. He wriggles, huffing in annoyance.  
“Are you stuck?” Hunk asks, and a nervous giggle bursts from his lips despite the situation. If Lance’s eyes were visible, he’s sure they would be giving him an unamused glare.  
“It’s this stupid collar,” Lance growls, giving his shirt another tug, “it’s so stiff,”  
Hunk steps forward and grabs the shirt, trying to pull too. The shirt shifts slightly, and Lance yelps in pain.  
“Ow, my ear, ow, ow, ow!”  
“What…are you two doing?”  
Both Lance and Hunk’s hearts leap into their mouths, and they both turn towards the voice. Lance gives the shirt one last yank, and it comes over his head. His hair is ruffled up, and his eyes widen as they adjust to the darkness again and see who’s standing before them, looking equally as sheepish.  
“Pidge?! What are you doing up?”  
Pidge quickly hides the large box in his arms behind his back, clicking his heels together.  
“N-nothing. What are you doing up,”  
Hunk’s thumping heart is slowly beginning to calm down, and before Lance can answer, he blurts out,  
“Lance is sneaking into the officer’s lounge naked to steal Captain Barton’s mug,”  
Lance glares at him, teeth clenched, as he starts unbuckling his belt. Pidge’s eyes flicker down to Lance’s busy hands, then back up to his reddened face.  
“Why…?  
“Because I’m cool like that,” Lance replies, unthreading his belt from his pants and letting it drop onto his shirt.  
“Because Kimberly said he was too much of a pussy to do it,” Hunk says at the same time.  
Lance kicks him.  
Pidge raises an eyebrow.  
“O…k…”  
“Why are you up, Pidge?” Lance asks, stripping off his pants, standing in nothing but mismatching socks and boxer shorts patterned with little rockets. Pidge raises his hand to cover Lance’s modesty from his eyes, because the boxers, which are probably a few sizes to small, don’t do a very good job, exposing too much of his skinny chicken thighs.  
“Can you stop undressing for a sec?” he asks, keeping his eyes focused on Lance’s face.  
Lance lets his arms dangle by his sides, then he folds them awkwardly over his chest, as if realising how bare he stands in the corridor at 16 minutes past midnight, and wants to cover himself.  
“Why are you out, Pidge?” Hunk asks. Pidge’s teeth snag his lip.  
“I’m, uh, going to…get food,”  
Lance raises an eyebrow, and Hunk steps forward to touch the heavy box cradled in Pidge’s arm.  
“With a massive package?”  
Lance scrutinises the scene before him, and Pidge swallows nervously. Then, a slow smile spreads over his face. Pidge’s heart leaps into his mouth.  
“He’s not the only one walking around after dark with a massive package,”  
The corridor is so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. Hunk turns slowly, and Pidge stares at Lance is disbelief.  
“I’ve heard some bad puns,” Pidge says, “but that was definitely the worst,”  
Lance shrugs his bony shoulders, then breathes in deeply.  
“You’re about to see,”  
“Wait, Lance, n-“  
There’s a flash of colour as Lance whips his boxers off in a move that’s almost graceful, and he then sprints down the corridor, socked feet thudding on the ground as Pidge and Hunk stare, jaws dropped, eyes wide.  
“I didn’t think he was serious,”  
Hunk glances at him.  
“I was more focused on the fact he did it so fluidly than his-“  
“No, I meant that he was streaking through the corridors!” Pidge snaps, shivering at the thought of what he so nearly saw. Silence falls in the corridor again, and the two stand, waiting, listening for Lance or an officer; whoever comes first.  
“Were you really sneaking out to get food?” Hunk whispers. Pidge’s knuckles whiten as he grips the box harder, wrapping his arms around it.  
“No,”  
“Oh. What were you going to do?”  
Pidge sighs.  
“Sometimes I sneak onto the roof, to scan for…stuff,”  
“Star stuff?”  
“Something like that,”  
Hunk doesn’t press him for more details. The silence stretches on, and Pidge glances at his watch.  
“Do you think he’s been caught?”  
Hunk glances up and down the corridor again.  
“We would have heard someone yelling. And the lights would have come on,”  
“He’s taking ages,” Pidge replies, fidgeting, “I want to go, but I also want to see if he actually does it,”  
Seconds stretch into minutes, and then, out of nowhere, comes a pale shape sprinting down the corridor towards them. Lance runs like each limb is piloted by a separate toddler, his arms waving, his legs stumbling, and his hands, he clutches a mug triumphantly. He barely pauses as he races past a thoroughly shocked Hunk and Pidge, pausing only to scoop up his clothes.  
“Dicks out for the Galaxy Garrison!”  
And with that, he sprints away again, back to his room.  
Both Pidge and Hunk blink.  
“That…just happened, right? I didn’t dream that?” Hunk asks, looking at the empty space where Lance’s clothes had been, as if searching for proof.  
“Yeah, that happened,” Pidge replies, hefting his box in his arms, “I think,”  
__________________________________________________________________________

Lance slumps down into his seat at breakfast the next morning, looking tired and pissed off. Hunk sips his drink, and Pidge rubs his eyes, yawning.  
“What’s up?” Hunk asks, setting his glass down and pulling his plate of food closer. Lance simply grabs his fork and begins shovelling food into his mouth, grumbling angrily and glaring at his scrambled eggs.  
“Did you get caught?” Pidge asks. Lance swallows his mouthful, then looks up at the two of them.  
“She said it didn’t count,” he growls, then begins eating again as though food is about to run out. Pidge leans forward, and Hunk slaps his palm against the table.  
“What?! But you got his mug, naked!” Hunk says in disbelief.  
Lance mutters something, teeth clanking against his fork.  
“What was that?” Pidge asks, cocking his head to the side.  
“I didn’t take my socks off,"


End file.
